Her Scent
by Kat Lee formerly Pirate Turner
Summary: She has a distinctive scent - which he loves. Het.


Title: "Her Scent"  
Author: Pirate Turner  
Rating: PG  
Summary: She has a distinctive scent - which he loves.  
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, names, codenames, places, items, fandoms, titles, and etc. are always © & TM their respective owners, not the author, and are used without permission. Any and all original characters and everything else is © & TM the author and may not be reproduced in any way without the author's express, written permission. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.  
Author's Note: 244. That's the number of stories that were sitting on my hard drive collecting dust because I lack the energy and time to take care of them as I once did. My betaing pattern has always been to write, then type up if written on paper, the story, read it aloud to my beloved Jack and our children, editing as I go, and then finally format and post. Sadly, this part is simply taking too much of my time and energy, and my beloved Jack and I have too little time together in person these days to be able to keep up with my stories. So what to do? Give up writing? I actually considered it for a while, tried to make excuses to myself other than the large number of stories collecting cyber dust on my computer, as to why I lacked the energy and Muse to write new tales. And then, with the turn of the new year, I decided to stop running and face the problem. The problem is, quite frankly, that once one gets so bogged down in formatting and editing that writing is no longer a pleasure but the actual posting of those writings becomes a hassle and - egad! - work, it's time to cut something out, and that will never be the writing process. So, in short, yes, there will be mistakes in this tale. Yes, it's missing about half of the header information I usually include. But I wrote it for pleasure and am posting it in hopes of sharing that pleasure with others. Do with it as you will.

She has a distinctive smell. It isn't Chanel #5 like most ladies of her wealth and prestige wear, nor is it the perfume that she dots sparingly across her body, knowing she doesn't need it to make her the woman she is or hide the woman she doesn't want the world to know her as. It's richer than any perfume. There's a tinge of vanilla to it, and of roses, but it's also sweeter than any baked confection or plant in all of existence. Eliot knows this well, because he's eaten, cooked, and tended to plants all across the globe. There isn't a single pastry or flower that he doesn't know.

When he closes his eyes and just lets her scent wrap around him, sometimes it reminds him of sunshine, of days spent lounging on the beach away from the rest of the team, sneaking kisses and caresses in the water that they know would foil the future they both desire if ever the others learned of what they truly do when left alone in each other's company. At other times, it reminds him of a night they spent dancing in Spain, or another night dining eloquently on the top floor of the most expensive restaurant in the city. Her scent reminds him, too, of diamonds as it seems almost to glisten on the breeze around her.

Yet it comes from none of these things and from all of them. It's mysterious and welcoming, the one scent in all the world that can make him smile even when he's bleeding so profusely that he can smell nothing else but his own blood until she comes near and gives him a reason to keep fighting. It's helped to lure him out of one of his rages and is often the first sign of the real world around him that Eliot catches onto when returning to himself. It even slips into his sleep, wrapping around his head like an intoxicating cloud and giving him the first good dreams Eliot's had since his life turned into a war.

Part of him wants to take her away from all this. He's often dreamed of hiding her in a bottle, keeping her and her scent just for himself like the rare treasure she is, far more precious than any gold or silver, but he knows he'll never be able to convince her to leave the team. He doesn't really want to leave the team himself. They both finally have a family, after all, but he doesn't want anything to happen to her. He wants to be able to bury himself in her and in her scent forever and keep them away from all dangers and anything else that might taint them, but he knows he can't.

Instead, thereby, Eliot contents himself to follow her scent wherever it goes. He buries his face in the smell of her hair and neck, her flesh, her very essence, every opportunity they get when they're alone. He clings to that scent in times of bad and continues to relish it in the good times, as well. He cherishes the scent and lets it mystery alone, not trying to decipher its secret no more than he will its owner.

They're mysterious. They're beautiful and wonderful, and if Eliot never quite determines everything that makes up the scent, or the woman, that's perfectly fine with him. He knows all he needs to know in this case: He knows he loves the scent and the woman who wears it. He knows he will gladly follow Sophie Deveraux to the very furthest edge of the world any time she asks him, even if just to catch another whiff of that delightful, delectable scent that is one thing more than any other. It's her, the woman he loves and who loves him in turn, and that, ultimately, more than any other reason, is why Eliot will always follow that delicious scent wherever it goes.

**The End**


End file.
